Monday Blues
by The Queen Of Mischief
Summary: Hermione actually likes Mondays, but recently they've started becoming rather weird. Her friend Harry and boyfriend Ron are really busy, and she has found arguing with malfoy a surprisingly therapeutic way of feeling better. Draco x Hermione fluff! R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"I really hate you, ferret," said Hermione Granger, utterly frustrated with the way her day had turned out. She normally _liked_ Mondays, unlike many people. There were many brilliant things about Mondays that she adored. For starters, her timetable was the longest on this day. While most would consider this an absolutely rotten part of their day, Hermione enjoyed hurrying from class to class and absorbing as much information as possible. And the best part was that the lessons she had were ones she enjoyed. The lessons that she enjoyed fell under the rather generous umbrella of everything except Potions with Snape.

Aside from this, Monday was the day she got to spend the most time with her best friend Harry and her boyfriend Ron. The three of them had Charms, Herbology and Transfiguration together and this was a blessing, because on other days they could barely catch a glimpse of each other.

But this particular Monday, Hermione was feeling rather wretched, and did not want to deal with anyone. Firstly, she had been up all night because Lavender and Parvati had chosen to have a late night girly gossip session, and had not bothered to keep their voices down, thus ensuring that the people who did not want to have a girly gossip session could not sleep. So she had woken up feeling groggy. Then she had fallen out of her bed and gotten a rather ugly bruise on her left knee. Then she found a _tumor-like tangle _of hair which simply refused to come out, forcing her to shove her chestnut curls into one of those messy chignons, which would look glamorous on someone else, but made her look like she hadn't slept all night (which she hadn't). Since then, the breakfast served had been porridge, which she absolutely despised, because of its bland, gooey and sliminess. Herbology had been cancelled because of a rather nasty lightning storm, preventing any of the students from being able to go out. This was unfortunate, as Hermione had spent some time researching and writing an essay which Mrs. Sprout had told the class to and she had been looking forward to having hers graded.

Then Harry had decided to have lunch with Ginny so some of their time together was snatched away. She appreciated having some alone-time with her boyfriend, but still, she liked spending time with Harry too.

And now during Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall had paired her up with Malfoy to work on transfiguring a teapot into a rabbit. Could her day get any worse? And Malfoy was absolutely _useless,_ sitting around, criticizing almost _every_thing she did and not making any contributions whatsoever.

"Why, thank you. How nice of you to say so," Malfoy responded coolly as though she had complimented him.

"If you're so good at this, why don't _you_ do it?" Hermione finally snapped.

"I don't _work_ with mudbloods, see?" he spoke as though she were mentally challenged but managing to sound nasty at the same time.

"_Really?_" she feigned sarcasm, "I had _no_ idea."

"I know. That's why I'm telling you."

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "If you're not going to help, then shut up and do whatever it is that ferrets do in their spare time."

"How unimaginative of you. Is 'ferret' the _only_ insult you can come up with?" he spoke almost pityingly. "Then again, I shouldn't really be surprised. You are rather dim."

"'Ferret' is the only insult I can think of that wouldn't be considered unbelievably vulgar in polite society. Then again, you wouldn't know about that, what with you being a hypocrite and all."

"What're you on about, calling me a hypocrite?" he asked rather testily.

"Is 'mudblood' the _only_ insult you can come up with for _me_?" she echoed his pitying tone with an edge of sarcasm.

He stared at her, momentarily silenced. "That is the only insult I can think of that wouldn't be considered unbelievably vulgar in polite society." He decided to give her a taste of her own medicine, but was slightly mollified when she laughed in his face.

"Whatever, Malfoy," she said, returning to her work.

It occurred to him that she had just won the argument, having had the last word and made it look like she was above such petty arguments. He scowled and stared at the teapot angrily, as though it was the cause of all that was wrong in the world.

Shockingly enough, Hermione felt _good_ after her little verbal repertoire with the ferret. She felt _energized_ and as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, probably because she'd been able to vent her irritations at him.

After that her day had passed fairly normally. Not fabulous, but definitely okay.

—

That evening, Hermione went to the lake to sit by a large tree she liked. It was ancient and its thick, knotted branches had always seemed majestic to her.

Just as she was starting to relax and calm down after the hectic day, she closed her eyes, only to hear a rude voice saying "Oi, mudblood, you're in my spot. Go away."

Only one person could be so obnoxious. Without opening her eyes, she sighed as though tired by his stupidity and said, "Do you own the school?"

He paused. "No…"

"Do you own this _tree_?"

"Do _you_?"

"Exactly. This isn't your spot, nor is it mine, but I was here first, and I'm staying. So get lost."

"You're a really audacious mudblood, you know. Talking to _me_ like that." he said, sounding more amused than menacing.

Despite the almost friendly tone of his voice, her eyes snapped open, and she glared at him. "Stop calling me mudblood, and get _lost._ Jerk!"

He looked much affronted. "What happened to this not being anyone's spot? You have no right to tell me where to go. And _no_, I won't leave. This is my spot too. So deal with it, mu—" he cut himself off, seeming to sense that if he called her a mudblood again, she would punch him in the face, which she absolutely would.

He sat a few metres away from her, also leaning against the tree facing the lake. Hermione pointedly turned away from him. He shrugged and pulled out his Ancient Runes homework.

Fortunately he didn't say any more to her and she was able to rest and do some of her own homework. However, when she got up to leave, picking up her books and parchment as she did so, she tripped over a root of the tree. Fortunately she managed to regain her balance, but her parchment and things scattered everywhere. With a frustrated groan, she bent to pick them up, feeling herself turn red because of her clumsiness.

She collected a small pile of papers and stood to move to another spot where many of her books lay, but found them already gathered in someone else's arms. She looked up into the face of that person and almost jumped in shock. Malfoy had wordlessly helped her pick up a lot of the things she had dropped.

"Um…" she started as he handed them over to her expressionlessly, "thanks."

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. She couldn't tell if it was mocking or sincere. He nodded and walked away, managing to look much more graceful than she was. She stared after him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Hermione!" cried Ron so he could be heard over the din of the hallways. Hermione turned to face her boyfriend and smiled, pleased to see him. "Hello Ron," she said, giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

He grinned and they started walking together. "You have Potions now, right?" he asked her. She nodded and he pulled a sympathetic face. "I'll walk you there," He offered sweetly.

"No need, Ron, the Charms class is in the other direction," she said, touched by the gesture.

"It's okay, 'Mione, I want to." He smiled and held her hand. They continued walking.

They stopped at the entrance of the Potions classroom. "Well, see you later, then," Hermione said cheerfully.

In response, he pulled her close to him and kissed her properly. She felt slightly embarrassed, because she could feel people's eyes on them as they walked past. Finally, Ron pulled away and with a little wave, he walked away. She turned around and found herself staring into a pair of cold, gray eyes, attached to a face that looked utterly disgusted.

"Must you exchange saliva like that in public places? You'll give people nightmares." Draco Malfoy said with a slight shudder.

She stiffened and glared back at him with her less cold, brown eyes. "That's rich, coming from you, considering that you and _your_ girlfriend Pansy seem to be unable to pull your tongues out of each other's throats."

His face was expressionless, and then he gave a tiny grin. "Touché, mudblood," he said.

"_Mr._ Malfoy, _Ms._ Granger, _if_ you are quite _done,_ do join us in the classroom." Snape had walked out of the class, seeing only two empty seats left.

With a slight blush, they went in the classroom.

"So, what're you going to call your children?" asked Ginny with a slight giggle later that night in their dorm room when Hermione told her about how nicely Ron had walked her to her class.

"What children?" asked Hermione blankly.

"The children you'll have with Ron, of course!" said Ginny matter-of-factly. "Once you get out of Hogwarts and get married, that is."

Hermione stared.

"You have to name it after me if it's a girl, okay?" continued Ginny.

Hermione stared some more. Surprisingly, she had never considered her future with Ron after Hogwarts. She normally _loved_ planning things ages in advance, so this was definitely weird. But now that she thought about it, she couldn't picture herself actually _marrying_ Ron. Dating him was okay, but _marriage_? And having children required them to... well, she didn't even want to think about _that._

"I mean, you _are_ going to marry him, right? You guys are like the perfect couple!" exclaimed Ginny when she saw Hermione look confused.

_The perfect couple?_ Really? Hermione hadn't known that. But then again, she couldn't exactly tell the _sister_ of her boyfriend that she couldn't picture herself with him in five years.

"Er, I haven't actually thought about it, Gin," she said, feeling horribly guilty for lying to her close friend.

Ginny nodded. "Well, it isn't as though there's no time," she said. "Don't worry. You'll think of the perfect name for your perfect baby."

Hermione nodded, trying to look bright, but feeling rather miserable.

She woke up the next morning with her pinky fingernail in a rather terrible shape because she'd been chewing it all night, thinking about Ron and her.

The Dining Hall was somewhat noisier than usual. Hermione sat down with her friends and had breakfast, feeling subdued. Ron wasn't there, which was good, as she didn't think she'd be able to look him in the eye. She felt _unfaithful._ Like she was lying to him. She tried to console herself by telling herself that you don't have to want to marry every boyfriend you have, and you're perfectly normal for not wanting to jump into such a big commitment.

"'Mione, you okay?" asked Harry, who had noticed she seemed quieter than usual.

She gave him a weak smile and said, "Yes, I'm fine, just tired."

He looked somewhat concerned, but didn't pursue the topic any further, which was good because she wasn't really in the mood for talking.

Hermione went into her dorm room after another uneventful day. She tossed and turned for an hour, and tried hard to sleep, but to no avail. She sighed and stood up. After putting on her shoes, she made sure her clothes were okay before leaving the common room. An old gray t-shirt and boxer shorts. She could live with that.

She trudged to the kitchen and tickled the pear on the portrait before going in. The house-elves greeted her enthusiastically and she requested a cup of hot chocolate to help her sleep. She sat at a table, chewing her fingernail (the already chewed-up one).

"Nice pajamas, mudblood," commented a voice from behind her. She groaned without turning around and slammed her head on the table in frustration. She didn't want to talk to _anyone_, least of all _Malfoy_. "Go away, ferret," she said, her voice muffled by the table and her hair.

"Oh, thanks very much," he said, sounding offended, before sitting down across her. She looked up, startled and stared at him. He, too, was wearing an old t-shirt, though his was baggier than hers, and boxer shorts. His silvery blonde hair was standing up all over the place.

"Sorry," she muttered, "I'm just frustrated."

"I can see that," he paused for a while. "Why?"

She looked at him as if for the first time. "What?"

"I said, why are you frustrated?" His gray eyes seemed genuinely curious and this was shocking to her.

"Well…" she thought about it. There was nothing she could tell him about her predicament that wouldn't make her want to die of embarrassment. "It's not something I can really explain."

He nodded. "It's about Weasley, isn't it?"

She was astonished. "Er… yes. How did you know?"

He gave her a pitying look. "Mudblood, please. It's as plain as the nose on your face."

She gave him a glare. "Must you keep calling me that?" she asked, irritated.

"Calling you what?" he seemed genuinely blank.

"'Mudblood', you idiot."

"Well, obviously. I mean, you _are_ a mudblood. What, do you expect me to call you 'pure-blood'?" he snorted.

"No, but you needn't insult me all the time. So what if my parents are muggles? It's not my fault, and there's nothing even _wrong_ with that. My magical abilities are just as good as yours, and at least my children won't have some horrible disease like Down's syndrome from centuries of in-breeding." She spoke without pausing for breath and inhaled deeply once she was done.

"I'll have you know, I'm not the least bit in-bred, so my children would be just as normal as yours, but more attractive," he sniffed. "And the only reason your magic is better than mine is because you _read_ all the time. And even though I love to read, I also prefer to occasionally engage in other, more social activities."

It was her turn to snort. "Please. _You,_ having known you're a wizard for your whole life, should by right be heaps better than me, seeing as you have so much more experience with magical things. _I've_ only known about magic for six years. And we're still on equal footing in classes. Why is that, Malfoy?" she inquired acidly.

He scowled. "It isn't as though my family believes in hands-on learning outside of school, so just shut up about it. I didn't have _time_ to practice before Hogwarts, because my father was trying to teach me to become a _Death-Eater._" Crap, he hadn't meant for that to slip out. Now the whole world would know.

She blinked. At least she had shut up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"You… didn't become a Death-Eater?" she asked finally.

He looked at her, his stony eyes piercing and shrugged.

"Oh," was all she could manage.

He gave a short, incredulous laugh. "That's all you have to say? '_Oh_'? Hilarious, coming from the person who thought I was the heir of Slytherin and that _I _was helping Voldemort with all of his schemes to kill Potter!"

She was stunned at his frankness. "Well, what else can I say?" she asked.

"Oh, I don't know, how about 'I'm sorry that I was such a prejudiced idiot for the whole time I've known you,'?" he suggested.

"Well, you were a prejudiced idiot too. And you still are," she pointed out.

He rolled his eyes and stared at his hot chocolate. He hadn't even noticed that a house-elf had put it there for him. He ran his index finger around the rim of the mug thoughtfully. Then he noticed Granger's eyes watching him. He glanced up and met her gaze. She didn't seem irritated, or suspicious, but more curious.

"What?" he asked, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Why?" she asked.

"Why am I asking why you're looking at me like that? Because it's kind of creepy."

She rolled her eyes. "No, why didn't you become a…you know."

"Death-Eater?" he suggested, raising his eyebrows. "I don't see how it's any of your business."

That stung, for some strange reason. She shrugged and he sighed.

"It's just…" he started. "It's not right. I don't want to be a… a _slave_ to some crazy, evil tyrant, who would kill me in a heartbeat if the need arose. I don't see why anyone would want to do that. And I don't want to help someone who just _kills_ everyone he doesn't like, or who go against his beliefs. Can you imagine how the world would be if we all did that? There'd be no-one left. And I may not particularly _like_ mudbloods and muggles, but I don't think they deserve to be victims of Voldemort's wrath like that."

"Isn't that what's happening to the house elves in all wizarding homes? Being slaves to crazy, evil tyrants who punish them unnecessarily?"

He groaned. "Not this spew nonsense again! It's in their nature. It's what they _do. _They _like_ it."

"I know, but the punishments for doing something wrong are…well, rather excessive, don't you think? Just like Voldemort's punishments to _his_ servants."

"Yes, well… why don't you try telling my father that? Or even my mother? She'd beat you across the face with a brick."

Hermione gave a half-giggle, and then turned it into a cough. There was silence. "I…" Hermione began, unsure of how to phrase her words. "I think that's really…noble of you." she said quietly.

He looked at her, and seemed to actually _see_ her for the first time. He regarded her curiously. "Thanks…for, you know, listening. But what you've heard now, you never repeat, _ever,_ got it?"

"Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me."

He seemed relieved. A minute or so passed in silence, when they drank their hot chocolate.

"Why are you here, anyway?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

"Me either."

"Well, I guess I should be going up now. It's almost four a.m." Hermione said finally.

"Crap, really? _Four_?" he asked. She nodded. They both stood up and started to leave. The Gryffindor and Slytherin towers were in opposite directions, so by right they should have parted ways outside the kitchen. But Malfoy wordlessly began walking with her to the Gryffindor tower.

"Er, Malfoy? The Slytherin dorm's that way." She pointed in the opposite direction. He rolled his eyes. "I know that, Granger. I'm _walking_ you to your dorm. You shouldn't walk around out here alone so late. There's Filch, and Snape and that bloody cat lurking around."

She was touched. "Thanks, Malfoy. Why do you hate Mrs. Norris?"

"That _thing_ clawed my arm in the second year when I tried to pet it. Look." He showed her his forearm, and sure enough, there were three medium-length scars on the smooth skin.

"Ouch. I've never bothered trying to pet it. It looks too mean." She said. He grinned.

They reached the Gryffindor tower in a comfortable silence. "Well, goodnight, Granger." He said, hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels, feeling awkward.

"Goodnight, Malfoy. And thanks for…you know." She gestured at the hallway, indicating that she was thanking him for walking her here.

He gave her a little smile and said "Don't mention it." He considered it. "Seriously, though. Don't mention it to anyone, ever."

She laughed. "Relax, Malfoy."

Then, with a wave, he turned and left. She found a tiny smile creeping over her face as she went into her dorm.

The next morning, Hermione didn't feel too tired, which was surprising, considering she had barely had any sleep.

"Morning!" she sang cheerfully to Harry, Ginny and Ron in the Dining Hall.

"Morning…" they replied, slightly puzzled by her bubbly-ness. "What's up?" Ginny asked.

"Oh, nothing. Just one of those days when you're feeling happy, you know?"

"I love those days!" Ginny beamed.

She pecked Ron on the cheek as she sat down. "You two have Herbology and Charms in the morning, right?" she asked, referring to Harry and Ron.

They nodded. "What do you have?" Harry asked. "Sorry, I can barely remember by own timetable." He smiled apologetically.

She smiled and said "Potions and Transfiguration."

Ron looked aghast. "Then why're you so _happy_?"

She mock-glared at him. "I just am." She replied simply. But the truth was, she didn't really know the answer to his question.


	4. Chapter 4

Okay, guys, sorry for the supremely long wait. I know I should have written over the December holidays, but I went overseas and had to leave my baby (i.e. my laptop) behind, so I couldn't write. And the school year just started and I have a load of work to do. But I am going to try my _best_ to write _at least_ once a week. I promise. I hope it isn't too short. I'm going to read a helluva lot more books and fanfics to get some inspiration:)  
Love ya!  
thequeenofmischief

**Chapter 4**

_Transfiguration, that same day…_

Hermione walked into the classroom early. It was completely empty, which was something she liked. It felt nice to be the first to enter the class. It was peaceful, and she could observe the way the rays of sun streamed into the room, and the way the tiny dust particles floated around in the air, giving it a rustic, magic-y feel, without having to listen to people sitting all around her, chattering away. It was also good because she had her choice of seating, and didn't end up sitting in the first or last row (prime spots for Professor McGonagall to pick students to answer questions).

Someone walked in. She didn't bother to turn around. She didn't really know anyone in this class, except for Malfoy (if her acquaintance with him could be described as "knowing him", anyway). She calmly pulled out her books and quill before resting her cheek on the base of her palm, elbow on the desk.

"Hello." The voice was unmistakable. She spun around in her seat, the sudden movement almost causing her to fall out of her chair. She threw her arms out to steady herself. Her hair fell into her eyes, partially obscuring her view until she impatiently tossed it out of her face.

She could see him trying hard not to laugh. She felt her face go warm and knew she was turning bright red. "Um, hi." She said, not even bothering to try and maintain an air of gracefulness.

"May I sit here?" he gestured to the empty seat next to her.

Her eyes widened slightly. "Um, I…I guess so."

He grinned. "Cool."

Something happened to Hermione which often happened to her in the past, not that she would ever _tell_ anyone that. Her mind went completely bonkers and started thinking about really stupid and irrelevant stuff.

'_Cool?' Draco Malfoy used the word '_cool_'? He does _not_ seem like the type of person to say 'cool'. 'Cool' is a word that high-school boys use. Wait. Technically, he is a high-school boy. But isn't it muggle slang? I think it is. I don't think non-muggles use that. Hang on, how would Malfoy know about muggle slang? _(Insert internal gasp here) _Maybe… maybe pure-bloods have slang too! Maybe they do! But what are the chances it would be the same as muggle slang? What if it's not? Maybe he's saying something else entirely that I don't even understand! Oh God oh God oh God—_

"Granger… Gra-a-a-a-a-nger!" he was waving a hand up and down in front of her face. She snapped out of it and her eyes focused on him. Without thinking, she blurted "What do you mean, 'cool'?"

Instantly, she wanted to kill herself. She wanted the ground to open up beneath her feet and swallow her whole. She wanted to _die._ Her face turned even redder, if that was possible. If this kept up, her limbs would go numb. _What if they had to be amputated?_ Oh Merlin, she was going mad.

He raised an eyebrow, with a hint of a smile on his face. "I mean, 'awesome'. Or 'great'. Are you okay?"

Her voice rose to an abnormally high pitch, which usually happened when she was trying to hide something. "Of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be okay?" there was a pause. "Why? Don't I look okay?"

He seemed vaguely overwhelmed, because she had managed to get all that out in one breath. "Uh…you're a little flushed."

"Oh. That. Well, that's nothing." She lied, somehow managing to make her voice sound somewhat normal. _What was _wrong_ with her? Why couldn't she act _normal_? The _one_ time, for Merlin's sake._

He blinked. "Okay."

"Okay." She replied. He began to take out his books and things. Flustered, she fiddled around with her quill and parchment. Other people began to enter the class. Hermione couldn't ignore the looks they were getting. After all, it wasn't as if Malfoy hadn't had a choice in where to sit. He could have sat all the way on the other side of the room, which was what normally happened in the past. But to see him sitting with _Granger,_ of all people… People started to whisper to each other. Hermione flushed again. If Malfoy noticed the not-so-surreptitious stares, he didn't say anything. He was cool and confident and began flipping through the pages of his Transfiguration book.

Unsure of what to do, Hermione did the same, trying hard to actually digest the words and not just stare at the paper. When she was finally beginning to register the words, she felt a light nudge on her arm. She looked to her right, and saw Malfoy holding out a small bag. "Want one?" he asked. When she looked doubtful, he rolled his eyes and said "It's _candy_, Granger, not ecstasy."

She couldn't help but grin (how did _he_ know about ecstasy, anyway?). She took one out of the bag. It was a coffee flavored candy. Her favourite, actually. "Thanks," she said. Just then, McGonagall came in and the lesson began.


End file.
